


Changes

by Anonymous



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M, More like yearning really, Mutual Pining, Ren plays he-likes-me he-likes-me-not with Goro's clothes instead of flowers.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 09:50:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20172277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The first time Akechi stays the night, Ren presses back into his chest and mumbles, “Can I call you Goro?”It’s a long moment before Akechi murmurs against the back of his neck: “I shouldn’t.”“Why not?”“I shouldn’t do a lot of things I do with you,” says Akechi.





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Really free-form, this one. It started as an exercise and I didn't actually plan to post it at all when I started, but I got kind of fond of it. Well, I hope you enjoy it. :))

The others don’t know, of course. Ren kind of doesn’t want to think about what they’d say if they knew. He loves his friends, and they love him, and that’s why he’s sure they’d try to castrate him if they had any idea of what he’s been up to - which he himself has to admit has just been a long string of very questionable, somewhat self-destructive choices.

But Akechi is just so pretty.

(There’s more to it than that, of course, but he’s stupid and more than a little infatuated and the thought overtakes his higher brain function every time he sees Akechi’s face.)

It’s ‘Akechi’ for a few months after they first meet, even for a good while or so after Akechi walks into Leblanc with his whole life story in tow. For a while still after the first time Ren presses a nervous kiss against the corner of Akechi’s mouth behind a shelf in the bookstore. He’d actually been aiming for Akechi’s lips proper, but had gotten daunted by his nose at the last moment and ducked aside to avoid it in a panic.

Nothing actually changed between them from that point forward, at least not so far as Ren could tell. Akechi still came by in the afternoons when he’d finished work and accepted his usual order without having to request it, handed Ren what he was due with the most disarming sort of smile, and Ren had to juggle the change with the deeply unnerving feeling of having his heart held in another’s hand. The only significant difference is that they kiss sometimes, now, which - okay, yes, probably counts as a bit of a change, but Ren is largely in denial and pretty good at staying in it. Besides, it’s just a bit of kissing. It’s nothing worth making a fuss about. Just kissing Goro Akechi, detective prince and celebrity heartthrob. No big deal.

_That effin’ Akechi_, Ryuji said at least once per hangout, because that was how often Akechi appeared on TV, whether in person or in passing. Ren murmured agreement and looked away, preferring anyway when Akechi turned that piercing gaze on him in person.

* * *

It’s not love. Ren isn’t _that_ stupid. He’s seventeen and hormonal and deeply stressed all the time, and Akechi is pretty and a willing outlet - not just in _that_ way but in Ren’s mind also. _You’re always so cool_, his friends tell him, and he is, but in the way an air conditioner or a refrigerator was cool; i.e. not without a significant amount of energy and background process at play to keep it that way. He likes Akechi. Likes him a lot, actually. The - well, _abnormal_ circumstances of being a phantom thief probably counted as a high-tension situation. Perfect for incubating what would otherwise, Ren is sure, be considered a perfectly normal crush. Never mind that being with Akechi makes him feel unsettlingly settled, slotted into place, like his soul might have been part of a matching set and he hadn’t registered the jagged edge as the side of an incomplete puzzle until just now. He’s not sure he likes it. He likes _Akechi_, likes being with Akechi, but it removes the sense of total independence that he’d thought he liked until this year - now he’s not so sure.

_Your bonds are your power_. Is he more powerful for being with Akechi, or does it take something from him?

* * *

Akechi has soft gloves and softer hands and Ren isn’t sure which he prefers on him until he becomes properly acquainted with Akechi’s lips, at which point it becomes a matter of no contest.

* * *

“You kiss too gently, Amamiya-kun,” Akechi murmurs against him, once, a little amused. “You act like I’m going to break.”

Ren breaks away. “It’s not that,” he says.

“Oh?”

It’s not. But how could Ren explain that it wasn’t Akechi he feared might break, but the unspoken, undefined connection between them? He’s scared, maybe, that he’ll misjudge what this is all supposed to be, slash the bridge and watch Akechi fade into the distance on the other side of an otherwise unbreachable chasm.

Akechi slides a gloved hand up the side of Ren’s cheek, cards his fingertips through Ren’s hair. “If you’re so uncertain,” he breathes, “I might just have to take the lead.”

“Oh,” says Ren, eyes wide. “Yeah, okay.”

Akechi pulls back, laughing. “Well, it’s no fun if you just _agree_,” he teases, and lets Ren push him up against the wall, eyes newly lit with challenge. Ren kisses him harder this time, snaking a hand up his shirt and grinning when he gasps.

* * *

_Your move, Amamiya-kun._

* * *

The whole thing - the rather dramatic affair of _the_ _first time_ \- was thoroughly without fanfare, Ren thought, clumsy and frantic and entirely quiet from the outset through to completion. No fireworks. No dramatic declarations of devotion. Not even so much as a breathing out of each other's names. Just grasping at each other, rocking and gasping until they finally shuddered apart in each other's arms.

After, settled against Akechi's chest and feeling utterly dazed about it, there are a million things running through Ren’s head and entirely too little time to select from them

“Have you done that before?” he settles on finally, the first words either of them had spoken since they’d stumbled up the stairs.

“What?”

“That,” says Ren, too shy to name what he hadn't been too shy to do. “You seemed experienced, that’s all.”

Akechi laughs. “Is that a compliment? You seemed to know what you were doing, too, if you were worried.”

“I've never done this before.”

“Fishing, then, are we?” Akechi smiles. “Would you like me to tell you how naturally talented you are? I’m happy to oblige, Ren.”

He strokes the back of Ren's head in some echo of tenderness, but the kiss he presses to Ren's cheekbone feels distant. And it never once leaves Ren's mind, not when Akechi makes his excuses and slips out later nor when he doesn’t come by again for some days, that Akechi had not answered this question, because perhaps it had been one that he was not entitled to ask.

* * *

Yes, it changes after that.

* * *

When Akechi returns the next time he gives no indication that anything should be awkward between them, leaves no echo of the strangeness that trailed him when he last left - quite the opposite, really, considering the new boldness with which he pursues Ren now. It had been subtle, before. Or as subtle as they could be. But now Akechi’s leaning into his space all the time and ducking his head just to look up at Ren through his eyelashes and dropping his voice to something that can really only be described as a purr.

Ren’s not a coward. A phantom thief takes what he wants. Akechi’s heart seems like fair game at this point, and he’s loath to let Akechi win.

* * *

It gets easier each time, more natural with each instance and less like Ren’s putting his hands all over something in a way that’s either going to desecrate it or send it ripping lethality through his flesh, but the less strange it feels the more strange it feels.

It’s strange the first time Ren presses tentative kisses into the side of Akechi’s neck and actually hears the breathless groan of his own name in return, _Amamiya-kun_, gentle and affected, though they don’t do much of anything that time. He doesn’t even really remember how it started. Akechi had wanted to examine his collection of knick-knacks, or his vintage game console (“it’s just old” he’d tried to explain but Akechi wouldn’t hear it), or something else inane and then Akechi had said some things and Ren had replied in some way and then things went a bit blurry after that and the tension snapped with the first few buttons on Akechi’s expensive-looking shirt.

(_I’ll pay for it_, Ren told him later, very embarrassed, but Akechi just laughed and said he’d take it as a compliment. _I’ll keep it_, he said, _as a memento of how very un-aloof you can be, Amamiya-kun, when it suits you._)

(This was yet more embarrassing.)

Akechi, he is discovering, is a fascinating mix of tender and demanding that makes Ren squeeze his eyes shut and clutch at his shoulders, tug him close and wrap his arms tight around his back and refuse to resist the temptation to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him again. They’ve never talked about the situation they have going, and Ren doesn’t think he wants to. They probably should. But what if it’s a mirage, bound to vanish if it’s examined too closely?

He thinks Akechi must like him, too. At least, Akechi definitely likes _this_. There’s no question about that. Ren can read it in the way Akechi arches eagerly into him, the way he smiles into Ren’s hungrier kisses and the fit of his gloved hand at the nape of Ren’s neck. But how Akechi feels about him, him as a _person_, is vaguer and more prone to the dangers of wishful thinking. He’d caught Akechi watching him once, late but not so late the trains had stopped running, when Ren was flat on his back and panting with his sheets sticking uncomfortably to his skin, Akechi rolling off him to rest at his side and bury his face into the crook of Ren’s neck against the pillow. It had been some minutes after, and he’d felt a warm gaze on his face, so he’d opened his eyes to catch moments of the fondest expression he’d ever seen before Akechi cleared his throat and looked away again.

He thinks he can feel it, when Akechi’s hands might reasonably be otherwise occupied but he uses them to brush light against Ren’s cheek instead. To stroke his hair back when it’s not in his way, or run his thumb over Ren’s lips with a wistful sort of wonder. Akechi never kisses him when they’re not - _involved_ \- but he’s starting to question why that is. At first he’d thought Akechi might have wanted to keep the whole thing as a kind of - business arrangement of sorts. Transactional. Clinical and detached. But would that explain the sweet desperation Akechi kissed him with when he could?

* * *

The first time Akechi stays the night, Ren presses back into his chest and mumbles, “Can I call you Goro?”

He feels when Akechi stills. It’s 2AM, he’s a little punch-drunk from earlier in the evening, and if it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have been sure that Akechi was even still awake. He can tell, though. Beyond the obvious, he feels he knows Akechi’s body and soul like he was born to.

It’s a long moment before Akechi murmurs against the back of his neck: “I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

Ren’s not often awake for 2AM. Akechi usually is, he knows, but he’s never told Ren why. Now, letting the moonlight wash onto his face and deciding that night air is entirely different from the air he’s used to, he feels like he might understand at least one of the reasons. Everything feels just a little unreal, right now. Like this conversation might vanish in the morning proper along with the stars.

“I shouldn’t do a lot of things I do with you,” says Akechi.

“I like it, though.”

“So do I.” Akechi kisses his hair. “You can call me Goro.”

“Thank you,” Ren says, then yawns and stretches and goes right to sleep in his arms.

* * *

He never asks “do you love me” or even “do you like me”, partly because he doesn’t know if he’d like the answers. Partly because he doesn’t think he could answer them if they were turned on him, and that doesn’t seem fair.

* * *

He wants to ask someone if this is how it usually is, but he knows it’s not and he knows even more that that’s a bad idea. Still. It’s strange not to consult with Makoto or to gossip about it with Ryuji as has become his norm. To call Ann and say _I’ve seen him naked but we don’t kiss outside of that_ or _how long after you start dating someone are you meant to use their first name anyway_ or _are we actually even dating?_ (He should probably know this.)

Probably the answer is no. Probably what they are is some form of friends with benefits (_are _they friends? Ren isn’t sure he can answer this, either) because they’ve never discussed feelings, or discussed anything much of anything, actually, besides Akechi’s opinions on various things and Ren making fun of him for them. By all appearances this is purely a physical thing, but Ren is so terribly unsatisfied with this as an answer that he dwells on it every chance he gets. They’ve never discussed feelings, never discussed the possibility of anything between them, but he _knows_ it’s there. He feels it every time he gets too close; the fizzle of an electric current or the tug of fate tying them together in red. The thing about all that was that it had to go both ways, so if Ren feels it, then Akechi must, too.

It’s not love. Ren is still not that stupid and he’s still sure of this much. He’s no longer sure of what it _is_, though, which gets to him a little more than it maybe should.

* * *

Akechi has become intimately familiar with the ins and outs of Ren’s attic bedroom, even more now that he’s part of the team and Ren no longer has to hastily shove the remnants of lockpicks and smoke bombs into odd corners of dusty boxes. Now Akechi could make his way up the stairs and across the room to the cinderblock bed with his eyes closed and a body in his way, and frequently does. He’d put a hand over his eyes once and told Ren to quiz him on the order of the ornaments on Ren’s shelf, which it turned out he’d memorized perfectly - without trying, so he said, but by now Ren had learned to question such things. Anyway, Ren probably shouldn’t have found that as attractive as he did but the ornaments were forgotten rather quickly after that.

The reverse is not true, however, because Ren still hasn’t been to Akechi’s apartment. He’d asked one time when they were in the vicinity of Kichijoji in a store corner that really could not be considered as private as they might have liked it to be, a hand on Akechi’s hip, pressed against his back and leaning over his shoulder where Akechi had ostensibly been looking at something-or-other on a shelf and murmuring something about heading back to his place?

Akechi had inclined his head toward Ren’s, just enough that when Ren breathed it shifted his bangs, and said something coy and quiet about not needing to wait quite that long, surely.

(He’d never taken Akechi to be the type for a frantic tryst in a public bathroom, however undramatic, but he’s a quick study and it’s clear Akechi is capable of surprising him just as much as he claims Ren surprises him.)

It had not occurred to him until much later, on the train home, feeling thoroughly embarrassed about the whole thing and fiddling incessantly with his fringe to prove it, that it might have been a diversion. He hadn’t asked again after that, opting to wait for an invitation, but one hadn’t come.

* * *

After November, Ren is even more acutely aware that this is a bad idea, but all this makes him do is double down on making sure no one finds out. He’s running out of reasons to shoo Morgana off to Futaba’s or Ann’s for the night and he’s anxious at all times that either he or Akechi is going to let something slip in the bugged floor of Leblanc. But he can’t give this up, not now. He’s surer of it every time Akechi meets his eyes, spilling something painfully and unknowably true even while his pretty mouth spews toxic lies.

They spend more time together without hands on each other now, playing baseball and playing chess and watching movies in Yongen’s small cinema because there’s less chance there of Akechi being noticed. They watch movies in Ren’s attic, too, but that tends to devolve more often.

Akechi invites him to lunch every now and then, collects him from Leblanc with a sunny apology to Sojiro for betraying his business and spiriting Ren off to some new café or diner or what have you. He always insists on paying, a battle Ren’s won about half the time. They could just split the check, he points out once, while they head back up to the attic. But Akechi grins cheekily at him and says what fun is it if they remove the challenge?

Ren says, _I’m starting to think you just like getting the best of me_. Akechi says, _Perhaps, and would you care to let me prove it?_ And then they stop talking after that.

* * *

_Does this change anything?_ he wants to ask, but doesn’t, because Akechi doesn’t know he knows, Akechi wouldn’t know what he was asking to change, and Ren can’t tell him no matter how many times he’s left Akechi gasping, no matter how well he knows his lips and neck and hands.

_Does this change anything_ \- it can’t, he’s sure it can’t. Akechi gazes down at him now with something close to adoration, hazy with heat, presses fondness to his skin, but it’ll be contempt and cold gunmetal when the time comes and Ren isn’t fool enough to trick himself out of it in a lovelorn rush.

He’s not smart enough to end things here, either, the electricity and the doubt with it.

* * *

How long has this been going on now…?

* * *

They don’t realize she’s there until they hear a frightened _eep_ and then the random crashing sounds of someone rushing back down the stairs as fast as they can. Ren pulls himself up off Akechi, grabs a sheet, and races after her while still partway through tangling it around his legs.

“Ann!”

He catches her right as she gets the door open which means it crashes back in his face when he tries to follow her out, which is also about when he realizes the café actually has patrons and he’s - “Can we go to the laundromat?”

She’s shaking, but nods.

As soon as they get inside, she smacks him. “_What are you doing?_” she hisses. “_Akechi? Really?_”

“I - you can’t tell anyone.”

“Ren!”

“You can’t,” Ren says, desperately. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I can’t believe you kept this from me!”

“Can’t you?” Ren demands. “You’re reacting exactly like I knew you would.”

“Because this is insane! You’re -!” She averts her eyes, blushing suddenly. “You’re not wearing any clothes!”

“I’m - I have a sheet,” he says feebly, wrapping it slightly tighter around his waist. “Ann. I’m sorry. I really am sorry. Please, please, _please_ don’t tell anyone.”

“I really didn’t want to see that today.”

“I didn’t want you to, either.”

“Just -” She runs a hand through her hair. “Akechi? Really?”

Ren just shakes his head.

“I can’t believe you -”

“Ren?” and they turn around, because Akechi is standing very awkwardly by the door looking like he regrets speaking up. He’s dressed and presentable and Ren goes cold thinking about how he’d just rushed into the café naked but for a sheet and Goro Akechi must have sauntered down cool-as-you-please only minutes later, but he’s also thinking about how in his rush Akechi must have not tied his tie properly because it’s a little more crooked than usual, and the sweater vest _just _hides the second button, which is not there, which might be Ren’s fault.

This is not the time. “Goro -”

“Sorry,” Akechi says quickly. “I’m - um, I’m sorry, Takamaki-san. I promise it’s not what it looks like. You don’t need to worry.”

“It is _exactly_ what it looks like,” Ann snaps. She looks at Ren and sighs. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Ren slumps with relief.

Akechi coughs delicately and holds up his briefcase. “I brought you some clothes,” he says lightly.

“Thank you.” Ren waits for Akechi to take them out and hand them to him. “Um -”

“I think I ought to get going anyway, so you can carry on whatever business you had with Amamiya-kun, Takamaki-san,” Akechi says politely. “I’m truly sorry for what you -”

“Stop talking about it,” Ann says, her face in her hands. “I never want to hear about this again.”

“Understood,” Akechi agrees. “Um. Well. I suppose I’ll see you later, then.”

He leaves without another word. Ann’s face is still in her hands. Ren clutches his clothes uncomfortably, still holding the sheet up.

“Uh,” he says. “Can you - leave for a sec, so I can change into -”

“I am so disturbed right now,” Ann announces, ignoring him.

“Hey -”

“It is so hard to talk to you right now knowing what I know. He was like, _in you_,” she interrupts, back to hissing, “like two seconds ago,” and he looks so utterly horrified at the fact that she’s really said this out loud that she actually cracks a bit and offers him a very helpless smile before saying, “I’ll be outside, you useless horny train-wreck, let me know when you’re done.”

He nods and says a very small _thank you_ and waits for her to make a show of going outside and covering her eyes for good measure.

He will never stop owing her for this, he knows, but when he finally goes outside and gives her a very tentative sheepish smile and she just cuffs him over the head and mutters something about how he needs to stop thinking with his dick, he knows he can trust her, just like always.

* * *

**Ann:** _rlly tho_

**Ann: ** _rlly_

**Ann: ** _Akechi_

**Ann: ** _rlly_

**Ren: ** _the heart wants what the heart wants_

**Ann:** _by heart u better mean something else_

**Ann:** _not that im happy abt that but_

**Ann:** _if ur for real then ur in a lot more trouble mister_

**Ren:** _I was just kidding_

**Ann:** _mm_

**Ann:** _hope u are, for ur sake_

* * *

“Perhaps it isn’t a good idea for us to continue this, Amamiya,” says Goro, a proposal that holds no force because it’s given from on top of him.

“Why’s that?”

Goro leans closer to him. “If your teammates found out about us,” he murmurs against Ren’s ear, “I can’t imagine it would be good for -”

“They’re your teammates too,” says Ren, one hand at Goro’s nape and the other somewhere off doing something that makes Goro’s breath hitch. “And I don’t want to think about them right now.”

“Will Takamaki keep the secret?”

“We can trust Ann,” says Ren.

“Hmm,” says Goro, “alright.” He dips down immediately to leave a stinging bite on Ren’s collarbone and then doesn’t leave the spot alone.

Ren gasps. “You gave up quick.”

Goro’s head pops up to give him a mischievous look. “Well, it’s not like I’m in a hurry to end all this either, you know.”

“Yeah,” says Ren, closing his eyes against Goro’s relentless assault against his throat. His pulse thunders away beneath Goro’s lips. “Yeah, good.”

* * *

**Ann:** _heyy just checkin in 2 let u no this is still a super bad idea ok byeeeee_

**Ren:** _thanks ann_

* * *

He’s learned a lot this year. He’s learned, for instance, how best to make Goro groan and shove his hips back harder against him; learned what makes Goro tip his head back and whisper godless prayers to the ceiling; learned how he looks with sweat painting his hair to his brow and his mouth open and panting and a look of hunger in his eyes like Ren’s never seen anywhere else. He’s learned that Goro likes to pin Ren by the hips and drop to his knees with a grin on his lips before they become otherwise occupied, that Goro likes it better the more he manages to take Ren apart, learned the flicker of triumph in Goro’s face when Ren slips down to return the favor.

Learned other things, too. That Goro gets kind of sensitive, after, and where and how he likes to be touched. That Ren himself is apparently sort of a cuddle monster but Goro always indulges him with a soft laugh. How Goro hides his face when he’s embarrassed, which happens less and more now all at once. The floaty, slightly ditzy sound of his laugh from when he’s still a little loopy in the aftermath. The tender, awed expression he turns on no face but Ren’s.

But it’s not enough. He hasn’t learned how to turn this around for them. Hasn’t learned how to stop Goro from leaving. Hasn’t learned how to make Ann stop shooting him reproachful looks whenever Goro makes excuses to stay behind after meetings.

Ren hasn’t learned how to keep convincing himself this isn’t what it is anymore.

* * *

_We make a good team, Joker. I think our little arrangement will take us far indeed._

* * *

“I thought you wanted to team up to change a heart,” Joker gasps.

“I did.”

“Then this is _super_ unprofessional.” But Crow just chuckles, slides a hand under his long coat to push it off his shoulder and buries his face in Joker’s neck. Good thing he took off that lethal mask. It’s staring at Joker from the desk Crow is perched on, just beyond his hips, those empty, accusing eyes boring into him. “A-and unproductive.”

“Not worth your while?”

“I didn’t say that.”

They’re cutting it close. The rest of the team will be back to check on them in just a few moments - Crow’s suggestion that they scout ahead while he and Joker finish off any remaining Shadows would not hold for long. This had been a bad idea from the moment Crow had suggested it - well, implied it really, with this deeply pointless plan and the meaningful look he’d shot Joker in its wake - but Joker thought ruefully that he was setting a pattern for buying into bad ideas. A very dangerous sort of precedent for finding Crow and his bad suggestions irresistible.

But…

Crow’s hands are warm and his gloves are soft and he caresses Joker like something unspeakably precious. Joker’s trembling in a manner most unbefitting of a phantom thief let alone their great leader but with Crow's breath sweet and triumphant in his ear it’s so, _so_ impossible to care.

“Come on,” Crow whispers, “come on, Ren,” and holds him close as he contorts and shakes to pieces in Crow’s arms.

The immaculate princely uniform is still pressed tight against Joker’s own rucked-up undershirt and half-shed coat when he comes back to himself, gentle arms around his shoulders and back. He’s breathing hard into Crow’s gilded shoulder.

“Okay?” Crow asks him softly.

“Mm,” Joker hears himself hum.

“We should be going soon,” comes Crow’s voice, somewhere by the side of his head. “We’re almost to the Treasure - I’m sure the others have made some progress into this next section of the Palace.”

“Yeah.” He’s too spent to move. “Ah…”

He registers vaguely that Crow is stroking his hair. “It’s alright,” Crow murmurs, something strange in his voice. “It’s alright, Ren. We can take our time.”

* * *

Well, that was a lie, though not the first and certainly not the last.

* * *

The end draws nearer. Far from what logic or reason might dictate, as he’s been politely ignoring it all year anyway, he insists on seeing Goro more and more often as the days leaf away, creeping toward their deadline, determined to fill each page with the thought of Goro if not the presence of him. Goro obliges, surprisingly, with equal enthusiasm and almost as much frantic fervor, which makes Ren wonder what he’s thinking.

Ren would like to reach into Goro’s chest and steal the heart that lies there for his own, but he can’t, so he settles for reaching into something more buttoned and less satisfying.

* * *

November 18th arrives.

* * *

“To all the best ahead, Ren,” Goro smiles, lounging beside him in bed the eve of, so Ren seals them off with a kiss.

* * *

Yes, it changes after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you liked it! I really appreciate it. :))  
Edit - The ending is open to interpretation, but I would like to think it ends happily for them...


End file.
